


the fabulous five of inazuma japan

by miaomaomei



Category: Inazuma Eleven, Inazuma Eleven GO
Genre: Alcohol, Gen, Humor, M/M, Shopping
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 01:14:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29709387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miaomaomei/pseuds/miaomaomei
Summary: Fudou looks down at himself. There's nothing wrong with the way he's dressed. Sure, he had to borrow some clothes from Kazemaru, since he only had one set of clothes when he arrived in Japan, but they should be fine, right?"They're Kazemaru's," he says."That doesn't mean anything," Fubuki points out. "Kazemaru-kun doesn't have very good fashion sense either.""Hey!" Kazemaru yells right in Fudou's ear.(In which Fudou unwillingly undergoes an extreme makeover with Fab Five wannabes.)
Relationships: Fudou Akio & Kazemaru Ichirouta, Fudou Akio/Kazemaru Ichirouta
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	the fabulous five of inazuma japan

**Author's Note:**

> I have never seen Queer Eye in my life. I have never played the Inazuma Eleven GO game either. Is it true that Fudou and Kazemaru live together or is that just headcanon from Japanese fans? In either case, that is also the headcanon I subscribe to now.
> 
> Post S1 of GO.

"Speaking of which, why are you dressed like that?"

Midorikawa's innocent question is directed at Fudou, who merely gives him a blank look in response.

After the match between Dragonlink and Raimon, the former members of Inazuma Japan gathered at an izakaya to drink to Raimon's victory and the destruction of Fifth Sector. Since it's Gouenji's treat as an apology for all the trouble he caused, the group had no qualms about drinking as much as they could. From beer to cocktails to highballs to hard liquor, practically every drink on the izakaya's menu made it to their table at least once throughout the night.

One could say that the rude question was merely the result of a drunken mistake.

"What are you talking about?" Fudou asks. Next to him, Kidou snorts into his drink.

"I mean, you look like..." Midorikawa pauses, tapping his chin with a finger, before he smiles. "Unique! You look unique! I was just wondering what was going through your head when you picked out that outfit and then looked in the mirror."

Fudou looks down at himself. There's nothing wrong with the way he's dressed. Sure, he had to borrow some clothes from Kazemaru, since he only had one set of clothes when he arrived in Japan, but they should be fine, right?

"They're Kazemaru's," he says.

"That doesn't mean anything," Fubuki points out before chugging the rest of his beer and reaching out for a half-finished cocktail. If Fudou remembers correctly, the cocktail is Hiroto's, but Hiroto is so busy trying to snatch up some kushikatsu before Kabeyama can get to them that he doesn't notice. "Kazemaru-kun doesn't have very good fashion sense either."

"Hey!" Kazemaru yells right in Fudou's ear.

Fudou jumps slightly. The last time he saw Kazemaru, he was sitting closer to Endou and the others, poking fun at Gouenji's hair, but he must have dashed over as soon as he heard his name being mentioned. He thanks the heavens that Kazemaru wasn't so drunk that he used Shippuu Dash right here in the crowded izakaya. They would have been kicked out within seconds, professional soccer players and former Holy Emperor or not.

"Just what do you mean by that?" Kazemaru demands, squeezing himself in the small space between Fudou and Kidou.

"Stop yelling!" Fudou snaps. "I'm not the one who said it so why are you punishing _me_?"

Fudou twists his face even more when he feels Kazemaru's spindly elbow dig into his ribs and from Kazemaru's other side, he can see Kidou frown as he's subjected to the same torment. But when Kidou tries to get up and move away to the seat Kazemaru vacated, Kazemaru reaches out and slings an arm around Kidou's shoulders, effectively trapping him.

"Kazemaru-kun, why did you let Fudou-kun out of the house dressed like that?" Fubuki asks, sipping from the cocktail and pulling a face. He sets it down and slides it back closer to Hiroto before reaching out and snagging up Kidou's beer.

"Hey, that's —" Kidou starts but Fubuki throws it back so quickly that Kidou doesn't even have time to lift a hand.

"What do you mean?" Kazemaru asks, pressing himself close against Fudou's side. He reeks of alcohol and Fudou tries to push him away, but the more he attempts to distance himself from Kazemaru, the more stubborn Kazemaru becomes. "Fudou! Stop moving!" he yells, and Fudou winces.

"Shut up, you moron," he says. "I'm gonna lose my hearing."

Fubuki sighs. "Look at you two," he says, gesturing at them vaguely. He prods Hiroto with a finger and Hiroto turns in his chair to face him. With a kushikatsu sticking out of his mouth, he looks nothing like the CEO of the Kira Company. "Hiroto-kun, what do you think about their fashion?"

Hiroto pushes up his glasses and stares at them, narrowing his eyes. He can't pull off the "cool and collected" look while he still has a skewer dangling from his lips, but Fudou doesn't bother pointing it out to him. After a minute of close scrutinizing, Hiroto nods and crosses his arms.

"Awful!" he declares. The kushikatsu falls out of his mouth but thankfully, it falls onto the plate and not into his lap. "Absolutely terrible."

"You're really not one to talk," Fudou points out, "with those glasses of yours."

"They're work glasses. They're not for fashion," Hiroto argues. He takes off the glasses and winks. "Don't worry."

"As if," Fudou retorts before he turns his attention to Fubuki, who is pushing the empty beer mug back to a forlorn Kidou while nibbling on an edamame. "And you're not one to talk to anyone about fashion, you know. You look like a dad on a road trip half the time."

"I'm on the run," Fubuki says. "I'm a fugitive. Normally, I look good. See?"

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. With a swift swipe of his finger, he unlocks it and shows Fudou his home screen. It's a little hard to see with all of the icons and apps in the way, but the wallpaper is that of Fubuki wearing a trench coat and slacks, posing against a wall. Fudou has to admit that he looks frustratingly good, choosing dull colours to complement his bright hair and tight clothing to show off his slim physique. He's not quite sure who took the picture and why Fubuki set it as his own home screen, but Fubuki made his point.

Not that Fudou would ever let him know.

"Yeah, sure," Fudou says, shoving Fubuki and the phone away. The action briefly frees him from Kazemaru's embrace, but Kazemaru returns with a vengeance, wrapping his arm around Fudou's waist and squeezing him tight.

Fubuki smiles smugly, no doubt glad that he managed to shut Fudou up, but after he takes another good look at Fudou, he shakes his head.

"Your hair," Fubuki says, "is a mess, for one thing. You look like you just woke up and instead of combing your hair like a normal person, you decided to pull it in a ponytail and call it a day."

It more or less is _exactly_ what Fudou did that morning but he would rather die than give Fubuki the satisfaction.

"Of course I comb my hair," he says instead, sounding as offended as he can. "What kind of a slob do you think I am?"

"Fudou, you're not going to get any girls if you don't put more effort into your looks," Kazemaru says seriously. He sounds sober enough but his face is still red and he sways slightly, even though he's sitting down. "Wouldn't that be a waste?"

"I'm not interested in dating," Fudou says.

"You keep telling yourself that," Fubuki says.

Kazemaru laughs, slapping the table. It really wasn't that funny but the screws in Kazemaru's head are looser than usual thanks to the alcohol. Hiroto laughs with him, even though he was absolutely not listening to the conversation at all. Fudou glances at Kidou for help, but Kidou managed to escape while Kazemaru was distracted. He is sitting with Gouenji and when he catches Fudou's eye, he gives him an apologetic thumbs-up.

Fudou wants to break every single finger on Kidou's hand.

It takes a while before Kazemaru and Hiroto calm down. Enough time for Fubuki to polish off the last remaining cups of alcohol on the table. Fudou tries once more to break himself free from Kazemaru's clutches, but with Kazemaru practically leaning his entire weight on him, it's like being trapped under a particularly heavy cow.

"Those pants too," Hiroto says, continuing from where Fubuki left off as if nothing happened, "are horrendous. I'm sure you think they show off your ass really well but why would you wear lime green under pink?"

"I've seen it in a magazine before," Kazemaru butts in. He doesn't sound like he's trying to defend Fudou at all, and he absentmindedly nibbles on the tip of a skewer. It's extremely impolite. When Fudou tries to shrug Kazemaru off, he clings harder like a barnacle. "It's fashion."

Hiroto waves his hand in the air like he's conducting an orchestra. A waitress stops by with a bright smile and Fubuki immediately orders another round of beers for himself. Hiroto does not notice his faux-pas, though it's unclear if it's because he's too drunk on alcohol or his own sense of superiority.

"Pink and green go well together but you have to think of the _shades_. Something lighter or paler, for example, for spring imagery. And besides, it's not exactly a colour combination that just anyone can pull off. Fudou-kun is —"

"Could I pull it off?" Kazemaru interrupts excitedly. He puts a hand on Fudou's inner thigh, dangerously close to the zipper, as if he plans to rip off Fudou's pants right then and there to wear them.

Hiroto pauses and stares at Kazemaru. _Really_ stares at him. Fudou gives Hiroto a death glare — say yes and you die.

After several tense seconds, Hiroto smiles and pushes up the bridge of his glasses. "Nope," he says simply.

Kazemaru buries his face against Fudou's shoulder in despair.

"Anyway, if you want to wear those pants, you have to be careful of what colour you wear on top. If you want to wear that jacket, you should wear something a little less...bright on the bottom. You're a walking talking disaster, Fudou-kun."

"Don't worry, we'll help you," Fubuki says soothingly. "Right?"

The waitress comes by with her tray laden with beer mugs, and Fubuki, the perfect gentleman that he is, helps her to unload everything. Instead of passing it around the table, however, he hoards them like a dragon with gold. He picks up a mug and drains half of it in one go.

Hiroto and Kazemaru nod at Fudou, their faces alight with determination. Even if it's over something completely ridiculous and even if it stemmed from their desire to poke fun at Fudou, they're genuinely eager to help.

The Fudou of before — the Fudou of Ehime — would have simply shot them down, feelings be damned. He's here to make everyone recognize his strength, not make friends. But the warmth of Inazuma Japan defanged him. The starved wolf of before is gone, and Fudou isn't sure if he ever wants it back.

"Just leave it to us, Fudou," Kazemaru says confidently, sticking his thumb up.

Without a word, Fudou reaches out and grabs Kazemaru's thumb. Before he could spout any more nonsense, he twists it back.

* * *

At 10 A.M. the next morning, Kazemaru stumbles out of the bedroom, clutching his head. His hair is a mess, strands sticking every which way, and his shirt is on backwards. Fudou, sitting at the kitchen table with his second mug of coffee and a novel, looks up.

"Good morning, Kazemaru-kun," he says, as loudly and obnoxiously as possible.

Kazemaru winces and stops in his tracks, sticking his hand up in the air and moving it around as if he wants to push Fudou away. Unfortunately for him, they're on opposite sides of the room.

"Not so loud," Kazemaru groans.

"Serves you right," Fudou scoffs.

Kazemaru mumbles something incoherent before he disappears into the bathroom and as soon as the door closes behind him, Fudou stands and pops open the rice cooker, filling a small bowl with rice. The miso soup on the stovetop and the salmon in the toaster oven are still warm from the residual heat.

By the time Kazemaru exits the bathroom, looking significantly more alive, the seat across from Fudou is set with a traditional Japanese breakfast.

"Thanks!" Kazemaru says. He peers expectantly into the mug of coffee Fudou poured for him and frowns. "I don't want to drink it black."

"Make your coffee yourself if you're gonna complain so much," Fudou gripes, busying himself with his book. "I'm not gonna pour it for you."

"This is why you can't get a girlfriend," Kazemaru says.

"Don't be stupid."

Despite complaining about the coffee, Kazemaru doesn't move to stand up. He sips from the coffee and pulls a face, but keeps on drinking from it until half of the cup is gone. The shower must have helped with his hangover because he eats the breakfast Fudou set out for him at his usual pace. He practically shovels it into his mouth with his chopsticks, and Fudou scowls.

"You eat like a pig. Calm down."

Thankfully, Kazemaru has enough presence of mind to swallow first before he says anything.

"I can't help it. It tastes really good, Fudou."

"Anything tastes good if you're hungry enough," Fudou sighs.

Kazemaru frowns and kicks his legs out like a kid. His foot connects with Fudou's calf and he winces at the sharp pain, pushing himself back away from the table.

"Wait, sorry," Kazemaru says hurriedly.

"It's fine," Fudou says, waving off his apology. There's no way he can finish reading his novel in peace if Kazemaru's going to be out in the living room, so he might as well spend his day off cooped inside of Kazemaru's guest room. "Make sure you do the dishes when you're done eating."

"Yeah, of course. Don't forget we'll be meeting with Fubuki and the others later, okay?"

"Yeah, ye — Wait, what?"

Fudou whips around, eyes wide, staring at Kazemaru, who simply gives him an innocent look in return. Even though he only started eating less than five minutes ago, his plate and bowl are already clean.

"Oh, sorry, I thought I mentioned it to you yesterday. Fubuki and Hiroto are going to help you pick out some nicer clothes."

"I'm not going," Fudou says quickly.

"I guess you're going to have to find a new place to stay," Kazemaru says sadly.

"Yeah, right."

As if someone as nice as Kazemaru would throw Fudou back out onto the streets over something as ridiculous as fashion.

But Kazemaru looks a hundred percent serious, steepling his fingers in front of his chin like he's about to proclaim the Human Instrumentality Project.

"You know that all the clothes Fubuki and Hiroto are calling ugly and lame are your own, right?" Fudou can't help pointing out.

"I don't understand the question and I won't respond to it," Kazemaru says. He grabs the dishes, takes them to the sink, and turns on the water. "Make sure you're ready to leave by noon. We're going to grab lunch with them."

If Kazemaru thinks that Fudou is going to go shopping for clothes with Fubuki and Hiroto, of all people, he has another thing coming. Fudou may be nicer and more mature than he was when Kazemaru first met him, but he never signed up to humour Kazemaru and the others' weird city life fantasy. Any debt he may have accrued with Kazemaru letting him room in the apartment for free should be paid off with Fudou's cooking and cleaning.

"You really think that I —"

"Hiroto's going to treat us to sushi."

"...I'll be ready in ten minutes."

**Author's Note:**

> My Twitter is [wafumayo](https://twitter.com/wafumayo) and my Tumblr is [surelynotshirley](http://surelynotshirley.tumblr.com)


End file.
